


keep you close

by itsmylifekay



Series: Steve wearing Bucky's shirt apparently leads to sex [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Steve, Clothes Sharing, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-28
Updated: 2014-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-06 14:09:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1860870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmylifekay/pseuds/itsmylifekay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Any particular reason you’re wearing my clothes?” Bucky asked, trying for casual but knowing Steve could always see right through his easy smirks and wide eyes.</p><p>“Forgot to do wash the other day. Figured you wouldn’t mind,” His brow furrowed down the middle and he shifted under Bucky’s hand as if to stand. “I can change if you want.”</p><p>“No.” Bucky said quickly. He pushed Steve back into the couch with a hand on his shoulder. “No, you figured right. I don’t mind. Not one bit.”</p><p> </p><p>Or: Steve forgets to do laundry one day, and it turns out pretty good for both of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	keep you close

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoy^^

 

“Hey Steve,” Bucky called, hearing the door open to signal Steve was back from the showers. “You wanna go out tonight?”

He already knew from experience that the answer would more than likely be no, but he asked every time regardless. Because even though he had to go out to keep up appearances, he never really liked going without Steve. He’d just spend the whole time worrying. And even though the gals were nice, and their company even nicer, they still couldn’t hold a candle to Steve.

“Nah, I’m going to stay in and finish some of the drawings I’m doing for the corner store.” There was a short pause. “Do you think you’ll be back tonight?”

“Why, gonna miss me?” Bucky teased. He tipped his chair back in a way that was sure to get him scolded, hoping to get a glimpse of Steve’s expression, but found himself freezing in place instead.

“Nope, need to know if I should prepare for drunk tonight or just hung-over in the morning.” Steve continued, oblivious to Bucky’s staring. Oblivious to how the sight of him in one of Bucky’s oversized shirts was making all of Brooklyn seem to stop and go silent. It probably helped that he had a towel over his head, rubbing at his hair so he didn’t catch his death, but the second the towel was removed he was frowning. “Course, neither of those’ll be an issue if you break your neck now.”

Bucky was still staring, fascinated with the way Steve’s small shoulders pushed at the fabric, how the collar was loose and stretched out to expose Steve’s prominent collarbones.

With a huff, Steve strode over and kicked at Bucky’s legs, pushing the chair forward at the same time so it rocked back into normal position. And brought Bucky mostly back to his senses.

The floorboards creaked under Steve’s weight as he moved around the small apartment, first disappearing into the bedroom to grab his things for drawing, then moving out into the tiny living room to set up at the couch. He spared a glance back in Bucky’s direction. “Never did answer my question.”

It took Bucky longer than he’d like to admit to remember what exactly the question was, but when he did he was quick to come up with an answer. “Think I’ll stay in, actually.”

“Don’t need you to watch me, Buck.” Steve said, pencil already scratching at paper, something bitter in his tone. “Haven’t even coughed all day.”

“Know you haven’t,” Bucky said. (He kept a running tally each day of the number of times Steve so much as sniveled.) “Not why I changed my mind.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed suspiciously as Bucky stood up and made his way towards the couch. Then he froze, going completely still as Bucky traced a finger along the drooping shoulder of his borrowed shirt.

“Any particular reason you’re wearing my clothes?” Bucky asked, trying for casual but knowing Steve could always see right through his easy smirks and wide eyes.

“Forgot to do wash the other day. Figured you wouldn’t mind,” His brow furrowed down the middle and he shifted under Bucky’s hand as if to stand. “I can change if you want.”

“No.” Bucky said quickly. He pushed Steve back into the couch with a hand on his shoulder. “No, you figured right. I don’t mind. Not one bit.”

Steve smiled at that, shaking his head when Bucky flopped down on the couch beside him, sprawling out with loose limbs and jostling the entire frame. Bucky worked his feet under Steve’s skinny thighs.

Before long, Steve’s pencil was scratching at paper again and Bucky let his mind wander. He spared another glance to the way his shirt sloped over Steve’s thin body, then forced himself to look away. Steve wouldn’t appreciate the distraction Bucky’s hungry stare would bring. So he looked out the window instead, and settled for sneaking glances every so often when he could no longer resist the urge to watch Steve at work, artist’s hands wrapped delicately around the pencil, immortalizing images on a piece of paper.

He wished he could draw. Then he could capture Steve in this moment and keep it with him forever, hold it close when he couldn’t hold Steve.

“What’re you thinking about, Buck?” Steve asked, voice soft so as not to break the calm that had settled between them.

Bucky took the opportunity to look back at Steve. “You.”

Steve swatted his ankle. “Sap.”

“But I’m _your_ sap, ain’t I Stevie?” Bucky grinned, smirking wider at the blush that came over Steve’s cheeks. He wriggled his toes beneath Steve’s legs. “You look real good in my shirt, you know that?”

Steve shook his head.

“I’m serious, you look real nice. Was just thinking how I wish I was good with art like you, so that I could keep a picture forever.” The blush that painted Steve’s face, just like if he’d had a few drinks in a crowded dance hall, made Bucky grin even wider. “Keep it in my pocket, take it to war with me. All of the other guys would be bragging about their girl back home but none of ‘em would have a thing on _my_ sweetheart.”

“Buck…” Steve warned, face still flushed like he couldn’t decide if he was mad at him or not.

Bucky reached out a hand and cupped the side of Steve’s face. His thumb brushed over the sharp line of Steve’s jaw. If there was one thing Steve hated it was people looking down on him, saying he wasn’t a man. And that included Bucky inferring Steve was somehow his dame. As if Bucky would ever think that.

Bucky knew Steve was a man, was more of a man than most of the people he worked down at the docks with. Sure, he was a little fella, but the strength, resolve, and kindness in his heart was more than most of the muscles down at the docks could ever hope to have. Any dame would be lucky to have Steve, and Bucky lived in fear that some day Steve would finally realize that, come to his senses and leave him for a better life.

He swallowed thickly and tilted his head to the side, thumb still stroking Steve’s jaw. “Love you, Stevie.”

Steve’s expression softened and he put down his pencil and paper, swatting Bucky’s feet away so that he could move closer on the couch. The old thing protested at the sudden movement but Steve soon had it quieting again, fisting a hand in Bucky’s shirt and hauling himself onto the other man’s lap. He planted both hands on Bucky’s shoulders. “Love you too, Buck.” He shook Bucky’s shoulders firmly. “So stop making that face.”

Bucky put his hands on Steve’s sides, rubbing slightly before slotting his fingers into the spaces between Steve’s ribs, easy to find through the thin white fabric. Leaning his head forward and pressing into Steve’s chest, he could fee the low heat from Steve’s skin, not nearly as warm as it should be but better than it would be come winter. Then, Steve’s skin would be like ice, and Bucky would be wrapped around every inch of him in an attempt to keep warm. And it wasn’t always enough.

Inhaling deeply, taking in the soft scent of soap and Steve and even a little bit of himself, he finally broke and wrapped his arms around Steve’s back, tugging and pulling Steve more firmly into his lap. Steve humored him for a few minutes, letting Bucky hold him close. Then he put his hands on Bucky’s chest and pushed himself back, looking down at Bucky with a challenge in his expression, daring him to try anything more.

Fortunately, Bucky was feeling brave.

“You’re gorgeous, Steve.” Bucky whispered. He knew the way Steve saw himself, how he didn’t like his more delicate features. But to Bucky they were another part of Steve, something beautiful, something to be loved. “Prettiest fella in the whole world, put all the dames to shame, too. Don’t know how I got lucky enough to call you my best guy.”

Steve scoffed and shifted in Bucky’s lap, accidentally pulling at the fabric of his shirt that was trapped between their bodies, making it drag off of one of his shoulders. He made to pull it back up and probably say something smart, but stopped when he saw the way Bucky was staring. He debated for a moment, then licked his lips. “You really like this, don’t you?” He plucked at the front of the shirt. “Like me in your shirt.”

And sure, if that’s how Steve wanted to justify it. Wanted to believe the shirt somehow made his body beautiful in Bucky’s eyes, then he’d take it. Because it was still Steve thinking he was beautiful, one way or another.

Bucky nodded. “Looks so good on you, Stevie. Don’t want to ever forget.”

Steve bit at his lip then leaned down, pressed a kiss to the side of Bucky’s neck. “Then you’re right, probably shouldn’t go out tonight.” He hedged, building up steam. “Drinking makes you forget things. Should probably just stay and…” He leant back again, using Bucky’s hold on him to recline, back bowing something obscene. “Try to memorize as much as you can. Always were shit at studying, bet it’ll take you awhile.”

Bucky nodded dumbly, eyes fixed on the way Steve’s nipples were peaking the fabric, dusty color discernable through the thin cotton. “Gonna let me take my time then?” He murmured, keeping Steve leaned back and moving forward to meet him, licking firmly over one clothed nipple before closing over it with his mouth.

Steve moaned softly and wrapped his fingers in Bucky’s hair. “Give ya…Give ya all the time you need.”

Bucky hummed appreciatively then bit down around the skin and fabric in his mouth, sucking at it harshly before pushing over it with his tongue, working on it until it felt wet and heavy in his mouth. When he finally released his lips, the area was damp and the material see-through, clinging tightly to Steve’s skin and emphasizing his pebbled nipple. Bucky flicked over it with his thumb then moved on to the next, bringing it into his mouth while continuing to rub at the other through damp fabric.

He bit down sharply and Steve bucked against him, pushing his chest closer to Bucky’s face and letting out a soft moan. “B-Buck.”

Bucky could remember the first time he’d paid attention to Steve’s nipples in bed, the way Steve had pushed at his head and angrily declared he wasn’t a dame. It had taken a bit of convincing and a lot of proving its merits before Steve would let him continue his work. But now it was one of both of their favorites. And it was something they could do even on days when Steve was feeling under the weather.

But Steve wasn’t sick now, and Bucky took advantage of that, rubbing one of his hands in a smooth stroke down Steve’s spine before stopping just above his ass, pushing firmly to guide Steve down onto his crotch. He was already hard and so was Steve, could feel him firm against his belly the same way he was sure Steve could feel him firm against his cheeks. Steve’s hands stayed in his hair as he moved his grip to Steve’s hips, holding onto his thin waist and urging him to rock, pushing his own hips up to meet him. Twin moans fell from their lips, barely muffled and quickly ended, both aware of the danger a discovery would ensure.

Bucky buried his mouth against Steve’s neck, licking at the skin there before nuzzling further down to his collarbones. Steve brought one hand up and bit at the fleshy skin below his thumb, smothering any sounds while encouraging Bucky onwards with twitching fingers and firm pressure in his hair.

The moved in synchronization, both desperate and eager to get off. Because, sure, they lived together, but that didn’t mean they were any less frustrated. Hell, if anything they were worse off in that regard. Because they saw each other in the shower, slept together, ate together, changed together, did everything in each other’s pockets but couldn’t lay so much as a finger on one another in case the neighbors were listening. There were also the days where Steve’s asthma would stop them, or a fever, a cough, a sniffle, some cracked ribs from a back alley Bucky hadn’t been quick enough to get to. There were days Bucky was too tired from his work down at the docks. Sometimes, Bucky had to go out with a dame to keep up appearances.

But today, they were both healthy. Bucky could go out tomorrow. And hell if they weren’t going to take advantage of this opportunity. Especially with Steve in his shirt, wriggling around in Bucky’s lap like the tease he was.

“Stevie,” he murmured, licking at the sweat pooling below his neck. “Stevie, can I…” He shifted forward and dropped his hands to grip at Steve’s cheeks, squeezing them gently before pressing Steve more securely to his hips. “Can I please?”

Steve huffed, and for a moment Bucky was sure he’d say no, but then he wrapped both of his arms around Bucky’s neck and surged forward to capture Bucky’s lips with his own. Bucky let out a muffled grunt of surprise then fell easily into the sensation, letting his eyes fall half closed as Steve controlled the kiss. Making sure not to jostle Steve, he moved to the very edge of the cushion then stood, gripping tightly at Steve’s butt and thighs to make sure the other man didn’t fall.

It was honestly a miracle and an extreme case of muscle memory that they made it to the bed. It was a testament to how much Steve wanted this that he’d let Bucky carry him there in the first place.

But it had happened, and now Bucky was looking down at Steve, hands on either side of his head, holding him up. There was a moment of pause, stretched out and thick like pulled taffy, where they just stared and took turns inhaling each others breaths. Then, by some unspoken agreement, they broke apart and starting tugging at clothes, slacks and boxers hitting the floor along with Bucky’s suspenders and over-shirt. But Steve didn’t remove Bucky’s shirt, just let it hang loose and wrinkled from his frame as he laid back on the bed and spread his legs, fabric hanging below his hips and making Bucky growl, surging forward to fill the space between Steve’s thighs in one quick motion, rucking up the fabric with his hands as he pinned Steve down by the chest and licked into his mouth.

Steve moaned as they ground together and clawed at Bucky’s back, leaving marks that Bucky would have to explain away in the morning. Words bitter in his mouth as he spun a tale of some eager dame. But he’d know the truth, that it was Steve in his arms, all quiet desperation and fierce determination to hold his own.

“Are…” Steve started. “Are we…?”

Bucky shushed Steve’s broken question and kissed up his neck. “Naw Stevie, don’t hafta tonight. Just wanna hold you.” Then he paused, pulling back to consider Steve’s face. “Unless you wanted to…” They’d done it that way a few times before, but Steve always had to be in real good shape and be careful Bucky wouldn’t be too sore down at the docks.

“No.” Steve shook his head, pulling Bucky back down. He rolled his hips upwards and Bucky got the hint, grinding back down into him and groaning into his mouth, balancing all of his weight on his forearms so as not to crush the man below him.

Their tongues met and Bucky’s eyes fluttered shut, taken by a tidal wave of memories. Of kisses that tasted like bad liquor, worse coffee, the occasional chocolate bar, the day at Coney Island and a shared cotton candy. But now Steve just tasted like Steve and Bucky drank it in, pushing as close as he could as if he could absorb everything that was Steve and be absorbed in return. Until they were one thing and they never had to get split up again.

Not by idiots in the street, not by neighbors, not by the war or whatever else the world could throw at them.

He whispered as much into Steve’s ear, promises of forever and how much he never wanted to let Steve go, reveled in the moans Steve had to muffle in his shoulder. Frantic fingers scrabbled at his shoulders and then Steve was tugging at him with one hand and reaching for the nightstand with another, their small container of petroleum jelly was pushed into his chest and Steve huffed into his mouth. “Damnit, Bucky. You can’t just… If you’re gonna go and say that then you better… right now, Buck. I need you right now.”

Bucky sucked in a breath and pulled back to stare down at Steve in wonder. He took in the wide eyes, blown pupils and flushed cheeks. He took in the shirt that started it all and the way Steve’s thighs were trembling around his hips. “Alright,” he promised. “Alright, Stevie. Whatever you want.”

Because even if he hadn’t originally planned on going this far, like hell was he going to pass up the opportunity. (Besides, he’d never been able to say no to Steve.)

Uncapping the lid and getting his fingers slick, he used his other hand to curve below Steve’s knee, pulling his leg up to open him more, holding him there as he worked the first finger in. Steve groaned and clenched around him.

“That’s it,” Bucky encouraged, swiveling the digit before continuing its slow drag in and out. Steve relaxed around him, always quick to get used to the first finger. So Bucky added a second, wriggling it in beside the first then giving his hand a twist.

Steve keened and arched his back, pushing back onto Bucky’s fingers. His leg twitched in Bucky’s grip and his arms wrapped around Bucky’s neck, pulled him down so he could pant against Bucky’s cheek. “Buck- Buck, you gotta…”

“Shhh,” Bucky hummed. “You’re doing so good, so good for me, Stevie.”

Steve groaned again and pushed against Bucky’s hand, something about Bucky’s words that always made him more eager, more relaxed. It was the only time Bucky could croon at Steve without worrying about getting his face punched.

“Doing so good, baby doll.”

His fingers made a slick noise as he pressed them back in and Steve choked on his next breath, letting out a strangled noise against Bucky’s lips.

“You like that?” Bucky murmured. “You like hearing dirty things, baby doll?” He pulled his fingers out slowly, curving them to catch some of the slick before pushing them back in quickly, making another wet sound that Steve groaned at.

“You look so good like this,” Bucky continued. “All dressed up in my shirt, letting everyone know I’m your best guy. You like that, sweetheart? Like knowing I’m yours and you’re mine?”

“Buck,” Steve moaned, strained and quiet like he wanted to scream. “ _Bucky_.”

“It’s okay, Stevie. You don’t gotta say it. I know.” He pressed a kiss just to the side of Steve’s mouth, then to his chin. “I know what you like.” He kissed up the side of his face then pressed one to each of his eyelids, licking ever so slightly at the delicate skin before pulling away. He inched a third finger in beside the others.

Steve moaned softly and Bucky moved his mouth back to Steve’s, licking easily between his slack lips and sucking at his tongue. Steve trembled as he was opened the rest of the way, the third finger always just on the edge of discomfort.

After a few minutes of picking Steve apart with his fingers, loosening him with his words as much as anything else, continued reassurances of how amazing he was, how much Bucky loved him, Bucky pressed a last kiss to his lips before asking, “You ready, doll face? Or do you want more?”

That question was always a favorite of Bucky’s. Because that way Steve couldn’t mindlessly say _more_ and expect Bucky to read his mind, if he wanted or needed Bucky to prep him more, then he could say it. But if he was ready, then he could say that too. Either way, Bucky was just glad the system worked and he’d never accidentally hurt Steve by going too soon. (Not like he would regardless, because Steve always complained afterwards that he took so long with opening him up they were both going to be old and gray before anything actually happened. But Bucky would just as soon die as he’d hurt Steve.)

“I’m ready,” Steve gasped, sounding more like a curse than anything. Bucky drug his fingers in one last slow thrust in and out just to be sure. “Bucky…” Steve growled. And that sounded like a warning.

Bucky took his hand away and reached for the jar again, slicking himself up and giving Steve a cursory stroke as well. But Steve wasn’t distracted, parting his legs as Bucky lined himself up, glaring a hole into the ceiling and daring anything to interrupt the moment.

Nothing did, and Bucky moved his hips in one smooth stroke, hooking his elbows beneath Steve’s knees once he was seated and pushing them even further together.

Beneath him, Steve’s muscles went taunt at the new intrusion, back arching and everything going tense before he tried to force himself to relax. Bucky kept his hips still and took in a breath, letting his mouth run free.

“So fucking good, Stevie. You’re always so good. Don’t want anybody else, can never be like you. Can never be as gorgeous as my baby doll. Can never be as much of a smartass or have hands like you. Never love anybody else like I love you, Stevie.”

Steve groaned and started going lax, melting into the bed.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You can do it. I know you can. You’re so good, you know that? Wish I could brag to all the other guys about how good you are, tell ‘em how you’re better than any dame. Get ‘em green with jealousy cuz they can’t ever have you.”

Bucky started a slow motion in and out, setting up a rhythm that they could both work with, keeping Steve more or less pinned so that he wouldn’t over exert himself. “You doing okay there, baby doll?” (Even though he was pretty sure everything was good, based on the way Steve’s head was lolling back on the bed, he just wanted to be sure.)

“Yeah,” Steve panted. “Yeah, Buck. Just…” He dug his heels into Bucky’s back and wriggled against the sheets, trying to get closer, arching as much as he could to draw Bucky further on his next thrust in. “ _More_.”

Biting back a groan, Bucky had to take a moment to recollect himself before leaning down and kissing Steve’s chest, his neck, before finally landing on his lips. “Anything you want, Stevie.”

He sped up his hips and spread Steve’s legs wider, watching through hooded eyes as Steve fell apart. Sweat dripped down both of their chests, matting their hair at the jaw and making Bucky’s back chill against the air. Steve let out a soft keen, back arching uncontrollably, and Bucky coaxed him to the edge.

“C’mon, Stevie, come on, doll. You can do it. Let go for me, can you?” He sucked below Steve’s jaw and thrust in one more time, right where he knew made Steve go crazy. Steve’s release was beautiful, the way his eyes fluttered and his whole body flushed and quivered before going perfectly limp and pliant. Bucky thrust one last time before following him over the edge, panting brokenly into the damp fabric against Steve’s chest, ruined from sweat and cum and Bucky’s mouth.

They lay there silent for a few minutes, just listening to the sounds of Brooklyn outside their window, their neighbor slamming the door down the hall, the radiator kicking in downstairs.

Finally, Bucky huffed in a breath and propped himself up on an elbow, looking down at Steve with a fond expression. “Hey Steve,” he murmured. He reached out and ran a hand along the other man’s face, pushing back his sweaty hair.

Steve hummed in response.

“You wanna get out of that shirt?”

Steve cracked open an eye. “You gonna actually let me out of it?”

“Course,” Bucky said. “It’s all damp now. You’ll catch your death if you sleep in it.” A grin curved his lips. “You can always ask to wear it again though. Get it washed up for you, wear it so it smells like me…” Get it washed up so they can ruin it again…

“Figured it’d be something like that,” Steve groused, giving Bucky a look that said he knew exactly what Bucky was thinking. “Caught between being the mother hen and being my guy.”

“S’it so bad?”

Steve shook his head then sat up, pulling the shirt over his head and throwing it to the floor while Bucky went to get a rag from the kitchen. They both wiped off and slipped into some sleeping shorts before getting back under the covers and cuddling close. In the winter they huddled for warmth but in the summer it was more out of habit, an act they did despite of the sweltering heat. But it wasn’t too bad yet, just on the border of uncomfortable. Bucky looped an arm around Steve’s chest and hauled him close.

“Love you, Steve.” He murmured into the smaller man’s neck, pressing a kiss to the warm skin there before letting out a sigh and settling into the lumpy mattress.

Boney feet tapped against his own and a ridged spine pressed closer to his chest. “Love you too, Buck.”

Closing his eyes, Bucky took a moment to recall the way Steve had looked just an hour before, cast in the muted evening light in the middle of their apartment, hair almost silver and skin tantalizingly white, angles somehow both softened and defined by the shirt on his shoulders. It was nearly as good as the real thing, perfect as a picture. He’d never be able to see that shirt again without remembering. He smiled. Perhaps he’d have something to keep close after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!!
> 
> come say hi on tumblr if you'd like, same username :D


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